If you're of a certain age, it all began with Homer Jones. A receiver with the New York Giants during the 1960s, Jones took to punctuating scoring plays by slamming the football to the ground after crossing the goal line. It became known as the spike.

That seems innocent by today's standards, but it was a sure-fire attention-getter at the time. What Jones did was revolutionary – establishing a brief “me” moment smack in the middle of a team game. Soon others were doing the same.

If you're of a certain age, it began with Billy (White Shoes) Johnson and Mark Gastineau. Johnson, a brilliant kick returner with the Houston Oilers and Atlanta Falcons during the late '70s and early '80s, took to dancing after every touchdown he scored. Arms in the air, up on his toes, knees splayed, Johnson wig-wagged his legs like a rubber-band man.

Gastineau, a New York Jets defensive lineman, averaged 18 sacks from 1983-85. It became his custom, after each big play, to gyrate, gesticulate and dance about like a man with fire ants in his pants. Thanks in large part to Johnson and Gastineau, the NFL saw these “me” moments elevated to game-stopping performances.

If this is your age, well, you don't know or care where it all started. It just is. Guy makes an 11-yard catch in the second quarter of a 10-3 game, springs excitedly to his feet, flips the ball in the air, takes 10 prancing steps and thrusts his right arm toward the opposing goal line.

First dowwwwwwwwwwn!

These acts are now taken for granted. So much so that it has become less than a footnote to the 49ers' 24-14 victory over Seattle on Thursday that tight end Vernon Davis committed a preposterously selfish, nearly ruinous penalty after scoring the go-ahead touchdown.

In case you missed it, Davis caught a scoring pass from Alex Smith, rid himself of the ball, propped one foot on top of an end zone pylon and began flapping his arms like a bird.

If you're of a certain age, it is difficult to fathom why a rookie, of all people, would taunt a hostile crowd when, to that point, the 49ers offense had had trouble putting one foot in front of the other. It is even more difficult to fathom why anyone would risk an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty – which Davis received, for using the pylon as a prop – with the game still very much at issue.

Because of Davis' penalty, the 49ers had to kick off from their own 15-yard line. Because of this, Seattle's Nate Burleson was able to return the kickoff to the San Francisco 36. That possession ended when the 49ers stopped the Seahawks on fourth-and-1. But it is not straining credibility to suggest that it could have turned out differently and that Davis' penalty could have helped cost the 49ers the game.

If you're of a certain age, you can remember the day when a player such as Davis would have been benched, fined and/or excoriated on the sideline by the head coach and assorted teammates. Davis wasn't, and won't be. The play has faded into the mist of our collective memory because, well, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Or have you forgotten the brain cramp of San Diego's Vincent Jackson, who, during a recent game against the Raiders, caught a pass for a first down, jumped up and spun the ball on the ground. Jackson, as it happens, had not been touched by a defender. If the officials hadn't incredibly ruled his act an illegal forward pass, the Chargers would have lost the ball and, possibly, the game.

If you're of a certain age, you're probably wondering why we're even having this discussion. After all, contemporary athletics is rife with self-congratulatory acts. Batters stand at home plate watching their high drives disappear into the seats–or, oopsie, clang off the wall. Basketball players pound their chests after a dunk, their hysterics suggesting that such a basket must count for at least 20 points.

Football games, it seems, pause after every play for some player or another to stomp around, shake or shimmy after making a tackle, a first down or some other fundamentally anonymous play. What's the big deal?

If you're of a certain age, the big deal is this: These acts place a greater emphasis on the self-aggrandizing act than on the winning and losing of the game – which, once upon a time, was the purpose of it all. To the point that, given the choice between celebrating his next touchdown and guaranteeing a 49ers win, you'd expect Vernon Davis would have to think it over.

Not to single the young man out, because he's merely a face in the culture. That's simply the way it is, and has been for as long as most athletes can remember. The unsportsmanlike conduct war, as Homer Jones could tell you, was fought a long time ago.